Timeline
by Aerith1992
Summary: Arthur is a young boy when he has a very strange encounter. Years later, he meets a handsome man called Alfred F. Jones, and his life won't be as normal as he would have liked. Strangely enough, it is ok with him. Written for emblazer for usxuk 2012 Secret Santa, prompt "modern day unestablished relationship" and "Time Travel". Beta-ed by semebay


Arthur had been walking. Nothing out of the ordinary. He had just been walking home (more like stomping his feet on the poor cracked sidewalk) after an aggravating day of school, feeling downright frustrated. A black cloud of malicious, self-deprecating thoughts nested in his head, making him feel hateful towards all his professors and mates too. He was thinking about giving it all up, when his attention moved to a man strolling in his direction. Arthur remembers the strange tune the man whistled, one he'd never heard before. He wouldn't have cared about him if said man (he looked like he was in his forties) hadn't beamed at him.  
"Just smile!" The man had stopped in front of him. Arthur remembers his height the most - because in that moment, he was so frustrated by his height and the fact that he always met tall people - and his golden hair.  
Arthur watched the man, perplexed. Was he some kind of lunatic? Or was he talking to someone else just behind him? No, he had to be talking to Arthur; he was looking right at him and, as far as Arthur knew, no one except them was near.  
"Excuse me?" Arthur asked.  
"Just smile. Life is hard sometimes, but you have to keep going. You're smart, stubborn as a mule."  
Arthur opened his mouth to retort (who was this stranger to talk to him like that, to think he knew everything about him!), but the stranger interrupted him with a chuckle at his offended expression. Arthur reddened, feeling more and more outraged.  
"You can't let things get the better of you! Aren't you better than that?"  
The words left Arthur stunned. He just watched the man, feeling bewildered. How could a man he'd never met before know how he was feeling, or tell that he was on the verge of giving it all up? How could he say the perfect words? His own family couldn't, neither his few friends.  
He could only say in a little voice, hoping not to let his emotions interfere, "I don't have any money."  
The stranger noisily laughed, reclining his head backwards. His eyes shone with amusement when he calmed enough to look at Arthur again.  
"Why should I care?"  
"No one cares enough to say those things to a stranger. If someone does, it must be for money," explained Arthur, embarrassed by the man's previous outburst.  
"Maybe not," said the stranger, with a soft smile on his lips. His eyes, though, seemed sad. Arthur couldn't understand why. "You're going to be great one day, I can tell. Until then," the man saluted and began to stroll again, "just keep going, Arthur Kirkland!"  
Arthur started to continue his walk home, thinking about the strange encounter. Who was the man? What did he… Wait. He quickly turned in the man's direction.  
"How did you know my…" The man wasn't there. He had just disappeared. The road was empty save for a few cars. "…name?"  
Arthur puzzled over it until he decided it was all a hallucination from his tired mind. Only he could know what he needed to hear, of course. No stranger would behave like that. Yet, Arthur felt strangely comforted.

Arthur didn't think of the man again. He would faintly recall the words whenever he felt too exhausted to continue what he was doing, but could never recall who said them. Someone tall, with golden hair who was a bit gone in the head.

Arthur continued his studies and moved onto college where he majored in history. After he graduated, he found himself teaching at the local high school. He had a good life.  
Arthur had a job he loved. He could pass days doing research that left him exhausted, sometimes frustrated, sometimes ecstatic, but always proud of himself. He had a few good friends who he could always enjoy a few beers with at the local pub, or have a heated discussion on all topics, stupid or serious.  
Arthur didn't feel completely satisfied, but he was happy.  
"Geez, Art, if you weren't so small, I would think you're at least fifty. No, seventy," Gilbert said one night. "Have you ever thought of going out on a date? You'll just be alone for the rest of your life." He wasn't a colleague, and Arthur couldn't bring himself to call him a friend, so he was the group's jolly. Or asshole. Arthur and his friends were in a pub, drinking beers and talking. So, of course, Gilbert had to invite himself.  
"My name is Arthur." Arthur sighed. He looked at Marie, hoping to convey how annoyed he felt. "Why is he hanging with us?"  
"I don't really know. I thought you invited him," said Gabriel. Arthur snorted.  
"Should I call Liz?" asked Marie.  
Gilbert started to cough when he choked on his beer. Arthur lightly patted his back in forced concern.  
"You two broke up again, didn't you?" asked Gabriel, lightly amused.  
"We're not talking about me! We're talking about this loser! What was last time you got laid?"  
It was Arthur's turn to choke.  
"Don't tell me Francis was the last," said Marie, watching him with compassion.  
"I hate you," muttered Arthur.  
"Really, Art, you should get out more. What were you doing yesterday?" asked Gabriel.  
"Research."  
"And the Friday before?"  
"Do we have to continue?" asked Arthur, annoyed.  
"Yes, we do. What are you now, thirty?" exclaimed Gilbert.  
"For your information, I'm twenty-five. When will you stop going on about it?"  
"When you get laid."  
"Oh, God."  
Gilbert scanned the room and Arthur waited for a verdict that he surely wouldn't like. Gilbert was Gilbert though, and if Arthur didn't let him do this, who knew what the consequences would be? He was too unpredictable, a precious source of fun for everyone, even if he usually was annoying. Marie and Gabriel merely laughed at Arthur's sorrow. Such great friends he had. Then, Gilbert grinned almost maniacally.  
"Here he is! That one," Gilbert said, pointing at the pub's counter. A handsome young man, probably in his twenties, was excitedly talking with one poor barista who tried to listen to him and work at the same time. The man was familiar, but Arthur didn't think much of it. How many people were taller than him and had golden-blond hair? He looked like the stereotype of a Californian on those awful TV series.  
"So, Gilbert?"  
"You're going to talk to him and get laid."  
"What?" Arthur sputtered.  
"Or I'll do it," said Gilbert standing up with a grin. He then walked to the counter, ignoring Arthur's desperate, "No, no, no, no!"  
When Arthur saw Gilbert talking to the man, pointing at him, he just thumped his head on the table. "What have I done to deserve this?"  
"You are a bastard, dear," said Gabriel with a smile.  
From the counter, Arthur heard a loud laugh and Gilbert returned to the table, boasting about something. Arthur straightened himself, and glared at Gilbert with eyes that promised revenge. Gilbert ignored him. The man had followed him, and greeted everyone at the table.  
"I'm Alfred F. Jones!"  
"Yeah, these are Marie, Gabriel, and Arthur, the guy I was talking you about."  
Arthur turned red when he felt Alfred's eyes on him. He lowered his eyes and told Alfred that Gilbert was a filthy liar and nothing was true. Alfred just laughed.  
"He seems to care about you," Alfred said.  
"I always tell him that, but he doesn't believe me!" said Gilbert. Arthur snorted.  
"Because you're a pain in the ass. If you want, Mr. Jones, I could always leave him to care for you."  
"Ain't no need." said Alfred, smiling wider. "And name's Alfred."  
Gabriel and Marie started talking too, and the night ended with lots of alcohol and Alfred's number on Arthur's phone.

A few days later, Arthur and Alfred went on a date. Since Alfred was visiting as part of his studies - archaeology, he said, and just smiled when Arthur asked what there was to study in a little town like his - Arthur decided to accompany him on a tour of the town that lasted only one hour, even with all his knowledge. Besides, Alfred seemed more interested in him. It made Arthur feel important and very embarrassed, but all together good.  
He and Alfred got along perfectly. While Arthur felt nervous, Alfred seemed completely at ease and Arthur ended up relaxed too. He pushed all the right buttons, as they shared a love of history and literature, and Alfred dug out Arthur's secret passion for sci-fi. Alfred seemed to find it very funny.  
"It makes me think about old ads about the future," Alfred explained. They were eating something at a little tea house Arthur liked. Alfred took another gulp of this coffee before continuing. "You could find all this phantasmagoric things you think you'll find in the next century maybe, and then, when you watch them even a decade after, you laugh."  
Arthur thought about it. "But it could very well happen. That's what imagination and dreams are for."  
"How do you imagine the future?"  
"Ten years from now? A hundred?"  
"Let's make it a thousand." Alfred said with a mysterious smile. Arthur watched his strange expression, trying to decipher its secret, but stopped when he realized he was staring.  
"Well, for once, students will have more and more to study and they'll do it worse because there's too much. Even twenty years of study won't suffice. Of course the gits will think we are some prehistoric men or barbarians because we live without whatever hellish thing they'll invent."  
"Really?" asked Alfred, amused.  
"They'll think we live like in the Middle ages. Of course radio and cinemas and maybe TVs too will be forgotten. But… literature will survive. They won't remember Shakespeare, maybe, not everybody, and no one will read Harry Potter. Maybe they'll even forget those awful new books. But, people will still write, still draw and paint, will still make sculptures. There will be new stupid trends every year, songs that will be forgotten."  
"You didn't mention love." Arthur laughed. "You like to think of you as a cynic, Arthur, but I know better. You are an absolute hopeless romantic, aren't you?"  
Arthur looked at him seriously. How could he know so much? Things had gone perfectly well too, and Alfred hadn't annoyed him in any way, which was very strange. Arthur was easily annoyed by anything. "I don't understand you. Either you're a great judge of character or, for a reason I don't know, you just know me well. Are you a stalker?"  
"'Course I'm not!" Alfred laughed.  
"Alfred, I'm serious. Please."  
Alfred smile disappeared, and while Arthur wasn't happy about it, he felt calmer. At least Alfred was taking the matter seriously and not laughing at him for being paranoid.  
"Listen. If you ask my friends, I'm the worst judge of character ever. And I assure you, I'm not a stalker. I'm not."  
"Then, why-?"  
"I can't tell you right now. I really can't. I'll tell you someday, if you still want to go out with me. But not now."  
Arthur eyed him warily once more. Looked at Alfred's beautiful face, his azure eyes, his serious expression. Looked at his tense posture, the unmoving chest. He was holding his breath, waiting for his verdict. Arthur looked at him a little more, making him purposely feel on edge. Then, he smiled.  
Alfred beamed and hugged him tight.  
"Thanks, thanks, thanks! And I promise, I'll tell you one day."  
"I hope it isn't something like I'm your brother. That would be awful."  
"Why wouldn't you-" Alfred started, but he was interrupted. Arthur's mouth was on his, kissing him. Alfred immediately kissed him back.  
"That's why I wouldn't," said Arthur, trying to make his red cheeks go unnoticed.  
"Didn't think of that," said Alfred, laughing.  
"Sure you didn't. But I would think, if next date goes this well too... Well, if you want to."  
Alfred was evidently puzzled. Only after Arthur's pointed look he understood and smiled. "Can't wait!"

"So, did you get laid?" asked Gilbert abruptly a week later, at the usual pub.  
Surprised, Arthur spit his beer. Marie sighed. "All good beer that goes to waste"  
"I think it was a little too direct and unexpected, Gilbert," said Gabriel, while patting Arthur on the back.  
"Oh, sorry. Of course he got laid. Haven't you seen he isn't an asshole as usual?"  
"He is right here," grumbled Arthur.  
"Was he good?"  
"Marie!" exclaimed Arthur, baffled. "Even you!"  
"I was just curious." She shrugged. "So, was he?"  
"What if I didn't get laid?"  
"Impossible. My dear friend, for a change Gilbert is right."  
"Gabriel!" Why did he have such friends, Arthur thought. And why did Gilbert kept inviting himself? The mysteries of life. He sighed. "What if I wasn't with Alfred then?"  
Marie rolled her eyes. "Really, Arthur? He's smoking hot, of course you got laid with Alfred!"  
"Oh, ok," sighed Arthur. Marie, Gilbert and Gabriel immediately moved closer, interested. "He was good. Very good. In fact, he was just perfect." Gilbert whistled. Arthur reddened, but continued. There was something in his head that just wouldn't click. "But it was strange. He just knew how to move, where to touch… It was too perfect!"  
"And you're complaining?" asked Gabriel in disbelief. He put one hand on his forehead. Arthur removed it with an annoyed gesture. "Are you ok, Arthur?"  
"You're complaining the sex was good? Are you serious?" asked Gilbert, raising his voice. Arthur felt he could die of embarrassment. "Maybe he's just a porn star!"  
"You would know Gilbert. How long has it been you and your hand?" asked Arthur loudly, angry. It was Gilbert's time to be embarrassed. Arthur smirked. Revenge was so good.

They were lying on the bed, sated after another round. Arthur hadn't told Alfred about his worries, not wanting to embarrass himself any more with a person he had known for a month. He felt more curious each time Alfred revealed information he knew about Arthur's personal life, but Alfred was always nice and caring. He could see that all Alfred wanted was for him to be happy. Usually Arthur was.  
"A penny for your thoughts," said Alfred.  
From Arthur's position with his head on Alfred's chest, he could feel the words reverberate in Alfred's body and listened to his heartbeat. It was soothing, and, while Arthur's body was relaxing, his mind immediately started to work again. His shoulder tensed, and Arthur sat up. Alfred followed.  
"You will explain everything, won't you?" asked Arthur, with a hint of accusation in his voice. He scrutinized Alfred, making sure he understood him.  
Alfred lowered his eyes. He started to play with his hands, uneasy. "Arthur, I know you're curious, but-"  
"Alfred, please."  
"I can't tell you right now."  
"When, then?" asked Arthur. "We had this thing for… a month, how long will I have to wait?" He started to untangle himself from the sheets, but his frustration was only helping to tangle himself further. "This, Alfred, this is creeping me out. We're like a couple on a honeymoon, but I don't know anything about you, while you seem to know everything about me! Why?"  
Alfred's arms surrounded him and brought Arthur near him. Alfred still wasn't looking at him, but there was something in him that assured Arthur he was going to be sincere.  
"Arthur, the time will come. I am so sure of it I could promise you this on everything that's dear to me."  
"I don't want you to make a vow."  
"Then, just trust me. You won't have to wait long. One or two months from now. Trust me. Just, don't ask me again. I'll tell you when the time's right."  
Arthur looked at him and raised his chin to meet his eyes. Alfred was sincere, again, and he seemed worried. He didn't want to lose him, Arthur realized. He could wait maybe, two months. Alfred was perfect, and seemed to deeply care for him. He guessed he could give it a try.  
"Two months. That's the time you have," Arthur said.  
Alfred beamed and laughed, hugged him tight and kissed him. "That's perfect."

Alfred was a visiting student – from where, Arthur still didn't know - and he eventually had to go home. Parting wasn't easy.  
"Why can't I accompany you to the airport?" argued Arthur for the umpteenth time on their last day together, while they were strolling in the town.  
"I told you!" sighed Alfred. "I don't need to. I don't want to. I don't want to say goodbye in an airport."  
"I thought you liked cheesy things like that."  
"I don't!"  
"Liar."  
"But you don't!"  
"I don't care! We were a month together, I thought that maybe you would li- lik- nevemind." said Arthur, trying and miserably failing not to blush. Alfred laughed.  
"Aww, Artie-kins likes me!"  
Arthur tried to punch him in the gut, but Alfred dodged.  
"Shut up."  
Alfred obeyed, though still silently laughing. They continued strolling for a while, completely at ease, except for the impending separation. "Arthur, just remember not to contact me while I'm at home."  
"Why should I," Arthur muttered. The topic had been touched some days before, with a bad argue and a day of ignoring each other. Alfred explanations hadn't been satisfying but, if Alfred came often, he could let it pass, he finally decided after arguing again with Alfred.  
Alfred laughed again, and leaned in to kiss him. Arthur contentedly let him.  
"You don't like showing affection in public," noticed Alfred. Arthur only turned redder.  
"Who cares. Since I can't do that at the airport, this will do," he muttered.  
Alfred smile faded a little. "I won't be away too long, I promise. I'll call you whenever I'm here."  
Arthur hugged him, hiding his face in Alfred's outdated brown coat. Hoping not to be heard, he sighed. "I trust you."

Life without Alfred was a little boring, but hadn't changed in other ways. Arthur knew he liked Alfred well enough - a lot, in non-Arthur speaking - and that he felt good being with him, but they hadn't reached the madly-in-love phase. Somewhere inside him, he knew it would come in his future. He went to school, researched, went to the pub, baby-sat his students on a school trip while trying to force a little knowledge into their stubborn heads that earned him the nickname Snorethur.  
He had been so busy it seemed two weeks had passed in the blink of an eye, and Alfred called. He was staying in his town for no more than a week, and he couldn't wait to meet him again. Of course Arthur accepted the invitation to go out.  
"At the pub we met, at eight o'clock," he had said.  
At eight-thirty though, Alfred still wasn't there and Arthur was annoyed. He fiddled with his beer, occasionally sipped it, and tried not to look at his watch. He didn't want it to look like he'd been stood up. He called a few times, but Alfred never answered. Arthur settled in and continued to wait. At a quarter to nine, Arthur considered leaving when he finished his beer. At nine, he left the pub, disappointed and angry.  
"Arthur!" he heard when he left the pub. Alfred was running towards him. His hair was as messy as his clothes, and he was panting, but Arthur wasn't in the mood to forgive.  
"What the hell happened?" he asked, crossing his arms in front of his chest. As Alfred neared him, and Arthur finally looked at him after two weeks apart, he had the odd feeling that Alfred looked… younger. Arthur couldn't even tell why. Maybe it was just because of the separation.  
"I'm sorry!" exclaimed Alfred. Some people turned to look in their direction. Arthur blushed and frowned. Alfred took the hint and spoke more quietly while scratching at his neck. "I realized that it was late too late!"  
"No shit, Sherlock." grumbled Arthur. "We just didn't see for two week and then you are an hour late!"  
Alfred didn't reply. He just watched the street, pouting like a child who had been robbed of his sweets. Upon looking at him, Arthur knew he couldn't keep being angry.  
He sighed. "We shouldn't be fighting. Come on, you should drink something."  
Alfred raised his head and smiled. "You're the best!"  
"Don't forget that," said Arthur before looking around and kissing him on the lips.  
Alfred looked confused, then smiled again. "You missed me!" he sang.  
"Not at all." replied Arthur.

Alfred, realized Arthur, not only seemed younger, but a little different too. There were things, particulars, that didn't add up in Arthur's mind.  
One day, he and Alfred had decided to go to the cinema after Arthur's work. Alfred had been extremely excited and his cheerfulness had rubbed on Arthur too. He had looked a little bit confused when it had been time to choose the film, like he wasn't used to it, but Arthur let it go. Then, Alfred had pointed at a film.  
"That! I want to see that!"  
"We already saw it, why don't we choose something else?" Arthur had asked.  
"Oh, we did?" Alfred had seemed surprised. Arthur had frowned.  
"Yes, don't you remember?"  
"Yes, yes I do!" Alfred had quickly said. He laughed. "Must be the trip."  
"If you need to sleep, we can do it another day," Arthur had offered.  
"There's no need! Come on, let's go to see this!"  
"You look like you have never gone to a cinema before."  
Alfred had laughed loudly again. "Of course I have been, what do you think?"  
At Alfred's departure, when Arthur asked if he could accompany him at the airport, he had vaguely answered, "Airport? Oh, yes. No, babe, I'll go on my own."  
Alfred left him bothered and confused, but Arthur blamed his paranoia. Maybe Alfred was tired or had many thoughts in his head and because of that he couldn't have been as perfect as he had been for the first month they'd met. Maybe, Arthur thought, he could ask him when Alfred came again and seemed more like himself.

As Alfred had promised, the time of explanations finally came. He had called just after he arrived and told Arthur that he would grab a taxi from the airport to his house, where he could fulfill his promise. Upon meeting him, Arthur eyed him closely until Alfred made fun of him and he had to look away. Alfred seemed more mature than the last time he met him, a little older but handsome nonetheless.  
"It's better if you sit," Alfred said with an uneasy smile.  
Unfazed, Arthur followed the advice. "I'm ready, then."  
Alfred's hands twitched. "You won't believe me at first, but promise me you'll try not to reject this immediately. Promise. It's important."  
"I promise, Alfred."  
"Icomefromthefuture!" said Alfred, too loudly and too quickly. Arthur just stared at him, dumbfounded, while he tried to make sense of what Alfred said. He waited, then frowned and opened his mouth to say- "You promised, Arthur! This is not a joke, please. I'll explain right now if you let me."  
He looked Arthur in the eyes. Arthur took a deep breath and tried not to seem too unimpressed. Of course it was a joke, but Alfred was trying so hard he would give him the benefit of doubt. He nodded.  
"I did not want to tell you earlier because I needed proof. What was last time I've been here?"  
"Two weeks ago, don't you remember?"  
Alfred lightly laughed. "I'm getting to it. I'm sure you noticed something was off. You're not stupid, I know you did! Did I look younger? Did I know everything I should have known?"  
Arthur would have denied it, but everything came back in a rush. "You wanted to watch a film we had already seen. You seemed like you have never been in a cinema before-"  
"I hadn't." said Alfred. Arthur was perplexed. "Explain later. Go on."  
"You came on hour later at our date."  
"Sorry about that, I didn't know the pub."  
Arthur hold his breath. "Don't tell me… You just did that to prove me… Are you mad?"  
"I didn't! I didn't want to prove anything at that time! I just didn't know the pub because, in my timeline, we still didn't have our first meeting!"  
"You could have called!"  
"And tell you I didn't remember?"  
"Maybe you could tell me to meet me somewhere else!"  
"I didn't think about it… you forgave me! Why are we fighting about something happened five years ago!"  
"It was two weeks!"  
"For you!"  
"Are you serious?" asked Arthur. They went silent, while he eyed Alfred again. He hoped he would tell him the truth.  
"Yes," said Alfred unwavering.  
Only then Arthur realized he was standing, his hands firmly planted on the table. He sat down again, trying to figure it out. His mind was a whirlwind and he needed something to calm down a little. Was Alfred really from the future? His evidence wasn't convincing enough, but he seemed serious. Arthur's rationality told him it was impossible, his imagination that it could be very possible if he gave it a chance. Only three words cold have been said at that moment.  
"I need tea."  
"I'll make it!" exclaimed Alfred. "I'll have you know, I learned from the best."  
"Who, may I ask?"  
"You," said Alfred, smiling. Arthur fell silent again, and watched Alfred making his tea, completely at ease in his kitchen. He didn't hesitate for a moment, as if he perfectly knew where the tea, the kettle and everything else were. Arthur guessed that, if Alfred was telling the truth, he must have come - or will come? - very often. If not, he had to make it clear stalking was not appreciated.  
Just the smell of the steaming cup he had in his hands a while later helped him sort out the ideas.  
"So, let's pretend what are you saying is true. Where- when do you come from?" asked Arthur.  
"A millennium from now."  
Some discussions he had with Alfred had more sense now, his curiosity and strange amusement, Arthur thought. He tightened his hands on the warm cup and glared. Alfred, though, didn't seem bothered by it.  
"I study archaeology, specialized in the twenty-first century. It fascinated me since I was young."  
Arthur snorted. "Now I really don't believe you."  
"Really? No way! You have no idea. I came here to fully understand all of this. Only a few people can time-travel, and they have to be fully trusted by the CFTP."  
As he took a first sip of his tea, Arthur marveled about how good it tasted. Finally, his brain seemed to work at his normal pace.  
"CFTP?"  
"Committee for time protection. No one wants paradoxes. Last time it happened, dinosaurs went extinct."  
Arthur laughed. "Really?"  
Alfred immediately covered his mouth. "Spoiler… Please, don't tell anyone!" he guiltily said.  
"As if someone would believe me."  
"But you do, right? You do believe me, don't you?"  
Arthur stared at his cup of tea, deep in thought. Took another sip. As he tried to reason with himself, he felt as he should remember something. He was younger. Yeah, and walking away from school, in the middle of one of his darkest moments, wanting to go away from his noisy family and the bullies at school. And then, he remembered a man. Tall, golden hair and a sunny smile. It took another sip of his tea to help him focus on the stranger. Then, his hands trembled.  
"It was you!" he whispered.  
"What?"  
"Ten years ago! It was you! I was sure I had a hallucination because first you talked to me like you knew me perfectly and then you just vanished in thin air!" exclaimed Arthur.  
"Did I?"  
"You were forty at least!" Arthur said, running his hands through his hair. "I can't believe it!"  
"Arthur, calm down." said Alfred, getting up from his seat and resting his hands on his shoulder. "Breathe. Sit down."  
Again, Arthur found himself on his feet, his head a whirlwind.  
"Drink your tea."  
Arthur did.  
"Rest tonight. We'll meet tomorrow afternoon, here, then we'll talk."

The alternatives were simple: to believe in Alfred or not. The choice wasn't. Arthur wasn't a guy who easily trusted people. He liked to be surrounded with only a few friends that he could always rely on. When he trusted someone, it was always fully.  
He liked Alfred a lot, he confessed to himself while trying to decide. He liked his company and hoped it could continue in his future, but not if it was a joke at his expense. Alfred's story explained a lot of things, but Arthur couldn't blindly accept it as the truth.  
After a day thinking about it, he decided.  
"I still can't believe you," he said to Alfred.  
"Well, it is quite a lot to accept."  
"But I'll trust you."  
"Yes!" Alfred exclaimed, getting up from his seat and pumping his hands in the air.  
Arthur allowed himself a little smile before continuing. "But I have questions. Why am I involved in this?"  
"Spoiler," whispered Alfred. "One day you'll understand."  
Arthur sighed. "If you really come from the future and already met me, you did know what my answer would have been, didn't you?"  
"Yes, I did, but there are so many possibilities you don't even know."  
"As?"  
"You could have said no, and I would have to wait for you to be, like, ten years older, to meet you again."  
"Don't you ever get confused?" asked Arthur.  
Alfred smiled. "I keep a diary. It was your idea, you gave me the second or third time I met you. In my timeline. Here it is." he said, while fiddling in his pockets to show Arthur a very simple and badly cared for notebook, with a blue cover and lots of notes that threatened to fall out of it. Arthur studied it, interested.  
"I write every time I meet you down in it."  
"I mustn't open it, am I right?" asked Arthur, his eyes never leaving the notebook. If Alfred wasn't lying, he could read a lot from his future. He caressed it one last time before pushing it in Alfred direction.  
"I knew your Doctor Who addiction would come in handy."  
Arthur reddened. "Wait, I told you about that?"  
"No, but it wasn't hard to miss!"  
Arthur sighed again. "I hope there will be a time when I can get a revenge for all you're doing to me."  
"Spoiler," sang Alfred.  
"One last question. How do you find so much time to be with me? Haven't you got a life in your century?"  
"Time isn't much of a problem, when you live longer. Now, can we go to have fun?"  
"Where do you want to go?"  
"Dancing!"  
"No way in hell."

Alfred had given Arthur a green notebook to write in about him -with a wink, the git - and warned him about all that could happen. Still, Arthur wasn't quite ready when the unavoidable thing happened. After he published his historical research, he had been hired to teach at a good university. Arthur gladly accepted the work. He had just finished his lesson when it happened.  
Alfred, younger, wearing some strange clothing, came near him.  
"You didn't call me," said Arthur, before Alfred could speak.  
Alfred watched him, clearly perplexed.  
"And what are you wearing?"  
"You confused me with someone else, Mr. K!" Alfred said. "I'm Alfred F. Jones, and I wanted to join your research!"  
He was too direct as usual, yet Arthur realized the man in front of him wasn't his Alfred. He didn't know him yet and Arthur felt a deep sadness settle in his heart as Alfred smiled. However he had to follow future Alfred's instructions and act normal.  
"It's Mr. Kirkland," he said, trying to remain calm and pretend he was talking to a normal student. "And who do you think you are, Mr. Jones, to barge here in this undignified clothing, asking for a place as my assistant? I choose only the best."  
"You're lucky I am!" said Alfred with a big smile.  
Arthur started to feel annoyed. Yes, he was Alfred, but he was so ill-mannered! He sighed and eyed Alfred, unimpressed. Alfred didn't get the message at all.  
"I have this," Alfred continued, giving Arthur a crumpled letter. "It says I'm really qualified, if ya don't want to read it! I'll see you in the office tomorrow, then!"  
As quickly as he had appeared, he left. Arthur could only feel the letter in his palms and the mess in his head as he sit down on his chair.

Alfred was really unnerving. He came late with a crappy excuse - if "Mc Donald's was full of people, but really, that thing is great" was an excuse - and made annoying statements about Arthur - "Whoa dude, your eyebrows are really enormous!" - and the worst was that he couldn't even stop Alfred coming, because he was really qualified. He knew things Arthur hadn't ever thought of but made sense and, when serious, was a great help for his research. Sometimes Arthur wondered if it was because he was from the future or he was a genius.  
While he was working on a paper, he asked Alfred to make him tea. It was really a surprise when, when he took a sip, he found nothing could be as vile as Alfred's tea. Paperwork forgotten, he immediately set out to teach Alfred how to make a proper cup.  
"That's not the right temperature-" Arthur was saying, when Bohemian Rhapsody echoed in the room and he quickly opened his cell phone.  
"Hello, Arthur!"  
Arthur jumped in surprise at the voice, and excused himself from Alfred to retreat out of his office. "Alfred? You can't be here!"  
"Why not?" asked Alfred.  
"You are in my office right now and you aren't at your phone, and I don't think you could be in more places at the same time, time travel machine or not."  
"Thanks, Doctor Who!"  
"Shut it. How are you calling me?"  
"Oh yes! My friend Kiku just invented this thing, you apply it on one of your old phones and I can call you from the future!"  
"Why didn't you call before?"  
"Some sort of stabilization that doesn't work, I can call you only from now on, not more in the past. You miss me, don't you?" he then singed.  
"How can I miss you if you are in my office right now and being downright infuriating?"  
"What are we doing?"  
"We're talking, idiot."  
"No, in your office, you and younger me!"  
"I'm teaching you how to make proper tea. If I didn't know you, I would have thought you wanted to kill me with that thing you made me drink."  
Alfred chuckled. "I would have done that whenever you make me eat your food, sweetheart."  
Arthur squawked, offended. "I'm closing this call now."  
"Yeah, I'll call you later! Bye, sweetheart!"  
"Bye, you moron."  
"Oh, and your ringtone is so British!" said Alfred, closing before Arthur could reply.  
Annoyed and amused at the same time, he returned in his office. Alfred was waiting for him.  
With a smile, he said. "Dude, your ringtone is so British!"  
Arthur rolled his eyes at Alfred's, both old and young, antics.

When Arthur saw a blue notebook that looked like Alfred's in a shop, he knew it was time for the truth to come out. He bought it, took his one with him at work, and called Alfred in his office before it was time to get to work.  
"Mr. K!" said Alfred upon entering.  
Arthur groaned. "It's Mr. Kirkland. Now, please, sit. Get those feet off my desk right now!"  
Alfred grinned. Arthur sighed.  
He tried to remember what had he planned to tell Alfred, but suddenly words escaped him. Feeling a headache, he massaged his temples. Then, he started.

Living with a time traveler wasn't easy. Arthur had to put up with Alfred's ignorance about certain events, as Alfred surely had to, too. He didn't know anything about Alfred's life: he could not talk about his future for some secret reason Alfred didn't want to talk about. Arthur was so full of doubts sometimes, when he was at his weakest, and couldn't help but think about the worst scenarios: that Alfred wasn't actually an archaeologist, that maybe he had a lover, a family, or maybe that the future was bad and he didn't want to lie.  
However, Arthur usually found it enjoyable whenever he was in Alfred's company; he didn't change a lot growing up. He was always cheerful and full of energy but, while it led to ill manners when Alfred was young, it changed to a secret wisdom Alfred sometimes shared with Arthur. He was very bright and clever, but it was showed only when they were deep in discussion and Alfred cut in with witty jokes.  
Meeting Alfred when he still didn't know him, made Arthur realize how much he loved whenever Alfred cared for him, with cuddles and putting up with his disastrous temper, whenever he knew what was wrong with him or really tried to understand. He loved Alfred.  
But being in love did not solve all their problems.  
Arthur's heart broke every time he saw Alfred did not love him as much as he did. Whenever he had to wait for weeks, months, without a word from Alfred.  
They fought, apologized and made love.  
But sometimes it wasn't enough.

Arthur didn't know how it started. It must have been something stupid, like Alfred's lateness or mess attitude, and evolved in something worse.  
"If you really hate this, why don't you throw me out?" asked Alfred, enraged.  
"I would do it right now, if it wasn't completely pointless!"  
"Pointless?"  
"You did come back, didn't you? In my past! You know exactly I won't, because you have been in my future!"  
Alfred tried to talk, but Arthur interrupted him.  
"It doesn't matter what I do, because everything already happened to you! It doesn't matter I tell you not to do something, because you already did that in my future! It doesn't matter I don't want to do something, because you know I'll do it!"  
"You don't want me?"  
"I do!" yelled Arthur. "But it seems like I have no free will! We fight, but an older you has already been with me, so I know we will make peace, but nothing will change! I know I won't have stability in my life, and trying is pointless, isn't it?"  
When Arthur looked at Alfred, he knew he had talked too much. He looked deeply hurt. Arthur though, still in rage, couldn't feel guilty.  
"I'm forcing you, aren't I?" Alfred said, retreating to the door of Arthur's house. "I'm sorry, then. I'll make sure I won't disturb you anymore!"  
He left the house, just before Arthur said, "Do not worry, you already did!"

Only a couple of weeks later, when Arthur was calm enough to think calmly, he realized what had he said. He didn't felt as forced as he said he was and hit Alfred's weakest point, his fear not to be enough for Arthur, his fear of not let him be happy.  
Arthur felt guilty, felt like a terrible person, and no pride could stop him this time, not when he hadn't seen or heard from Alfred in such a long time.  
He wasn't thinking about it at all, thankyouverymuch, when he received a call from Alfred, and he certainly wasn't relieved when he called his name.  
"Hey love!" said Alfred cheerfully. "Sorry I couldn't call before! Did you miss me?"  
"Alfred, I'm sorry," said Arthur.  
"What for?"  
"What I've said. I- I didn't mean it."  
"Arthur, I don't understand."  
"I'm sorry. Forgive me, please," said Arthur again, desperate.  
"Arthur, it's ok. You know I love you. Whatever happened, remember I will still love you. I won't stop, even if you said the most hurtful things to me."  
"You don't know," whispered Arthur.  
"Have faith in me. Everything is gonna be alright."  
Arthur sighed while Alfred told him reassuring things, and let himself relax.  
"I love you too," he whispered, at last.  
"I know. Now, go to sleep. You are tired."  
Arthur hummed. Before closing the call, then, he remembered himself, and said, "You will forget this and we won't talk about it anymore."  
Alfred chuckled. "Of course, sweetheart."  
Even with Alfred's reassuring call, Arthur couldn't help but feel broken-hearted about what had happened. When he didn't have work to occupy his mind and no friends to hang out with, Arthur found himself wandering through his house, without anything to do, waiting for time to pass.  
It was on a day like that, when, after checking his e-mail for the umpteenth time, he felt something strike him. He opened, almost without thinking, a blank Word page, and his fingers started to dance on his keyboard.  
It was then, after months and months passed without Alfred, Arthur spent his time writing, and was convinced - more like forced - by his friends to let an editor look at it.  
And, with an unexpected turn of events, Arthur found himself as a well known author of a bestseller.  
He was successful, had anything he could have desired - but something was still missing.

After a really long time, when Arthur finally accepted his life as it was and felt happy, Alfred returned with a bouquet and a sheepish smile on his front steps.  
"I was angry at first, then I started to remember the call… When I looked into my notebook I found it. I'm sorry too," he said, and kissed Arthur, who frowned.  
"It took a lot."  
"Aww, you missed me?"  
"Not at all! I was thinking you were dead!"  
"Sure, sweetheart. I would have come back immediately, but I couldn't interfere with the events."  
"What events?"  
"The book!"  
"You know about it?" asked Arthur, surprised.  
"Of course I do, I'm your boyfriend, aren't I?"  
Arthur looked at Alfred. He looked different, but Arthur couldn't tell if it was because Alfred had really changed or because of the long time they had been apart. Of one thing he could be sure, though: Alfred was not telling him all the truth about his book. Yet, Arthur didn't want to ask about it. He and Alfred finally were together and Alfred had already so many secrets. What was one more?  
Alfred seemed to know that Arthur knew that something was off. He was there, fidgeting and playing with his hands, waiting for something for Arthur.  
"You stupid git. I was ok with my life, I had everything. And now, after a solid year, you come again, and how, how!" he exclaimed. Alfred tried to make himself small. "How could I refuse you?"  
Arthur hugged him and Alfred immediately tightened his arms around him, as if he was the most important person on the planet. Arthur smiled and closed his eyes, happy. Finally, he felt his place in the world.  
"Come in," he said then, after returning at his normal expression.  
"Oh, about that." said Alfred, moving to let Arthur see an enormous suitcase. "At work they extended my stay here until I perfectly merge with the population. I'll have to go to home now and then, but, when I'm here, can I stay with you?"  
Arthur eyed him, surprised. "You- You're going to live here?"  
Alfred nodded with a smile.  
Arthur started to laugh. He smiled, feeling at his happiest. He kissed Alfred, passed his hands through his hair, and back, caressed his body.  
"My love," he whispered between kisses.  
He felt Alfred's hands touching his neck, his hair, his back. All he could think of was Alfred, everywhere. Arthur stopped kissing him. Alfred whined as Arthur looked around. Then, Arthur grabbed his jacket.  
"Let's go."  
Arthur's door closed. The only thing out of place was a single suitcase abandoned in the garden.  
END

**Final notes:** Alfred goes to Arthur not only because he is an important professor and, thanks to him, he can learn historical events that people don't know anymore in the future, but also because Arthur's book is still famous in Alfred's future.


End file.
